


Proud

by 100percentsunshine



Series: Kaylor One Shots [27]
Category: Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, LGBT, Lots of Crying, Nashville, Pride, lots of rainbows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 14:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16065383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100percentsunshine/pseuds/100percentsunshine
Summary: "You excited?" Karlie asks, rubbing your back."And nervous," you confirm.Nervous, because you, at thirty four years old, are at your first ever pride. And you're not just there to celebrate and show off your first ever rainbow flag.No, you're performing.





	Proud

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't proofread this, so all mistakes are mine :)

**July 2024**

You pace back and forth backstage and try to focus on getting your hands to stop shaking. Of course you were dumb enough to put a decently tricky guitar song as your second on the set. You don't know what to do with your hands, so you pick at the streaks of glitter glued to your cheeks.

"You excited?" Karlie asks, rubbing your back.

"And nervous," you confirm.

Nervous, because you, at thirty four years old, are at your first ever pride. And you're not just there to celebrate and show off your first ever rainbow flag.

No, you're performing.

Of course you wanted your first performance in three years to be somewhat epic and unexpected, but when the Nashville Pride Center reached out to your team earlier this year, you hesitated. You weren't exactly sure why, either. You've always wanted to go to pride, and Karlie has always wanted to take you. It isn't her first, and it certainly isn't the first time the two of you have celebrated pride month, but there's something inherently different being here.

Even though it's now too mainstream and every company changes their logo to rainbow in July to show some sort of shallow support to market their product to queer people, you realize pride is still a protest. After you got rid of Joe just before your birthday in 2018, and Karlie wiggled out of the faux engagement before springtime the next year, you'd been public with your relationship.

Well, public in the sense that you went on dates and held hands and you were in her instagram stories. Not public in the sense that anyone knew you were together. Or that you'd been engaged for almost two years. But, slowly and surely, with Tree's intricate planning, everyone started figuring it out. Of course, there were those that had known all along. They played a huge role in getting the fans to understand. So, when you were thirty two and you and Karlie wanted to go to Times Square for New Years, Tree gave you the green light. And when, during the countdown, you made a split second decision to ring in 2022 with a kiss, the person who was most surprised was yourself.

Things are different now. You don't do interviews, and after the tour for your 7th album, you've decided to take a break from releasing music for the time being. That doesn't mean you've stopped writing it. You've done some work for other artists (you just finished a song that might be on Selena's next album), and you've been writing with Jack, Ed, Ella, and Little Big Town, just to name a few.

But just because you're fading from the music scene doesn't mean you're fading from the public eye just as quickly. The news about you and Karlie may not have been a surprise to many, but that didn't stop the media frenzy and tabloid speculation and the threats to your own safety that you've endured in the past few years. You try not to prod it, afraid of adding fuel to the fire instead of letting it simmer down on its own.

So yes, today is an act of defiance, a protest even. It's a big _fuck you_ to everyone who said you couldn't be successful and be out. Yes, you've been somewhat public with your relationship, but aside from that kiss, you've kept it as un-scandalous as possible. But today is the opposite of a lowkey relationship and saying that you, "don't really put a label" on your sexuality. This is quite literally prancing out onstage with rainbow glitter on your face and loudly proclaiming your queerness to the world. It's the first time you've done something so bold.

So everyone is a bit on edge. Paul runs through the guitar solos he's been playing for almost 2 decades, Amos is checking his tuning for the 10th time, and Melanie's vocal warm ups last twice as long as usual. And suddenly, it's fifteen minutes until you go onstage. You hear Chely Wright starting her last song (it's rather ironic that the two of you are performing back to back) so you pace one more lap around the tent and double check your makeup with your phone camera.

Karlie pulls you aside at the last minute. "You're going to kick ass out there," she says, giving you a quick but firm kiss. "I'm so proud of you."

Her reassurance calms you down like usual, and you kiss her one more time so that her lips are stained from your lipstick. You _are_ excited, and you're nervous, and you're a lot of other things that you can't quite name. "You'll be watching from backstage?"

"Of course," she confirms. "Are you sure I can't get a sneak peak of the setlist?" You haven't told her what you're playing. You want it to be a complete surprise.

"Nope," you say. You take her hands in yours and fiddle with her wedding ring, something that's become a habit. It's a thin silver band with a small emerald. (You both think diamond rings are overrated, especially after the giant, gaudy one she was forced to wear for almost a year.) You quickly glance around to make sure nobody is looking while you gently place your hands on her stomach. Karlie smiles down at you, and her hands join yours. You still can't believe there's a _baby_ in there. Well, it's not technically a baby. There's no bump, not yet. Right now it's about the size of a raspberry.

You're brought out of your haze when Chely and her band walk offstage and into the semi-hidden backstage area behind the tent. "You were amazing!" you gush, pulling her into a hug.

"Thank you!" She beams, and someone hands her a bottle of water. She drinks some, gratefully. "It is _hot_ out here."

"I know, I'm so glad I decided against wearing a suit," you say. You'd never really been friends with Chely until recently. You always admired her career and songs, but there was never much overlap aside from the one writing session you had together when you were a teenager. But she and her wife Lauren have always been supportive of you and gave you and your beards just the right amount of public shade. And, tucked away on your bookshelf is a copy of her memoir, dog-eared with quotes underlined and notes in the margins.

When she came out, you watched her in the way you assume queer actors did in 1997 when Ellen came out. You paid attention to how well her album sold, how many fans turned their backs on her, how she was ostracized from the country music scene, not unlike the Dixie Chicks had been almost 10 years earlier. Sure, you'd heard rumors before she came out, but no concrete evidence, so you took your story into your own hands and started to write pop music.

It's not that you didn't want to—you've always loved pop music and been influenced by it—but you also knew there was no way to be as successful as you wanted to be, as out as you wanted to be, and stay in country music. The industry is toxic in many ways, not just with its homophobia, but with its right-wing values, sexism, and rampant sexual predators. It's improved, but you knew it was an environment where you could never fully be yourself. Writing pop music was a natural progression in your artistry, but even now you're unsure how much of it was due to the subconscious push you gave yourself towards a more accepting industry. 1989 and Reputation were absolutely fun to write, and you're happy you've tried both extremes, but now your style has settled back into some sort of mix of country and pop. It's the best of both worlds.

It's not like the pop industry didn't have its dark sides, either. The success and fame you gained from it led to a lot more stalkers and threats to your safety, which didn't exactly help with your anxiety. And all the pressure to have a certain body type led you into some not-so-healthy habits and mindsets. Not to mention the intensifying secret of your sexuality and relationship.

You're so lucky to be on the other side now.

"Taylor, you're on in a minute," someone says. You feel someone pat you on the back. You're sort of floating above the scene; you're not really mentally _here_ , and you visualize yourself putting in your in-ears and pulling your guitar strap over your head. You hear yourself check your tuning.

Karlie gives you a kiss on your cheek, just below the glitter you glued there. You clench your hands into fists to stop them from shaking, take a deep breath, and walk onstage. As you hear the cheering and screaming people, you feel yourself morph into your stage persona. You like to think of her as you to the extreme: she's more confident, more collected, less anxious, and more sexy than the real you. She's award winning brand _Taylor Swift_ , instead of being just Taylor.

"Hello, everyone!" you croon and are met with even more cheering. "I'm so stoked that you all came out today, and I hope it's okay if we play some songs for you?" More cheering and some giggles. _Oh_. You didn't even mean to make a pun. Your heart is pounding. You smirk suggestively and fan yourself with your hand. "It is hot out today in Nashville! Everyone here today looks beautiful!" You pause. "Actually, scratch that. Y'all are a whole level above beautiful. What's that called again?" You hear some people yelling it in the crowd and you can't keep the smile from spreading across your cheeks. "That's right! You guys look _gorgeous_!"

You start strumming the chords and your drummer comes in two measures later. As you sing, your nervous energy seems to dissipate. By the end of the song, you're feeling much more relaxed, and your face is sporting a giant grin. You're still a little shaky from the adrenaline and some residual nerves, but when you switch to your electric for the next song, you're able to play the opening riff without a problem.

Those who know your music well immediately recognize it: "My Way" was the lead single off your 7th studio album (which contains no gendered pronouns). It has a rock edge to it, and you're excited to bring out the electric for it. You've been working on improving your guitar skills over these past few years and its really paid off.

Your set continues without a hitch. You play a few more high energy songs with the full band. Now, they step off stage, and it's just you and your guitar for the next few.

"Ours" is first. When you sing the first line, you hear someone a few rows back gasp in excitement. She's a young girl, can't be more than 16, who's here with her girlfriend of around the same age. Even though she's a bit for your usual demographic (who have aged with you), she's known the words to every song.

She turns to her girlfriend and says something, her eyes shining with happiness. You can't help but smile at them, and your eyes shift back to them more than the my normally would. They hold each other in that slightly awkward way that teenage couples do, wanting to be as close as possible but not quite having the poise or confidence of their adult counterparts. They're so _young_ , you realize, and it hits you that you were around the same age when you were trying to convince yourself that you didn't need love, that music and the fulfillment of your dream would be enough to satiate your every need. We're you _sure_ you couldn't fall in love with a man? Maybe you were bisexual.

You finish the song with a lump in your throat. And suddenly, you make a decision.

It's not as spontaneous as one would think. You've been mulling it over ever since you were invited to perform at pride. But you didn't think you'd have the so courage to pull it off.

The public narrative is that you and Karlie fell in love in 2019, when you were her best friend and a shoulder to cry on after a failed engagement. Of course, that's vastly inaccurate. Your real relationship began almost 6 years prior, when she took your breath away at the 2013 Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. And "You Are In Love," a song you wrote a couple months into your relationship, is supposed to be about something, someone, else.

But that's Karlie's song, one of the first tracks you completed about her. You want to sing it right here, right now. Which wouldn't be so much of a big deal if you didn't want to, y'know, switch the pronouns.

As your eyes scan across the crowd, looking at the sea of rainbow, glitter, self-love, and acceptance, you feel your heart wanting to burst. And, as your red flit to the right and catch Karlie's eye from backstage, you know you don't have a choice. The woman who has loved you and supported you through this crazy mess, the one who understands you more than anyone, maybe even more than your mom, is standing here. She's been with you through it all, and she's stayed. She's carrying your _child_.

So you tell yourself to be brave for once in your life, and you step up to the mic.

"So, before I start the next song, I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for being so welcoming and accepting towards me and my band. We've been really feeling the love here today. This is actually my first pride ever, and its been a super great experience, all thanks to you guys." Everything you've said so far is pretty much on script with the mini speech you'd planned. You still have time to change your mind.

But you don't. Anyone who knows you can confirm that you're stubborn; once you've made up your mind, its virtually impossible for you to change it. You're not even 100% sure about what you're going to say. So you take it slow, and let the words come out as they feel right.

"I've never actually been...super accepting towards my own sexuality. I've—like many of you, I'm sure—struggled with a lot of internalized shame and insecurity. Because, when you have to hide who you are, that can really make you feel like it's something shameful, or...or wrong, like you're a fake or unworthy. And, I know if anyone else were to tell me that they felt that way, I would tell them that it was wrong, that all of those feelings were a product of internalized homophobia and heteronormativity. But, as I'm sure you know, it's hard to extend the same compassion to yourself."

You pause to take a shaky breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your shorts. There's an applause, a chorus of words and yells and noise that you can't individually discern. But each one is a note of support to you; a person who's been in the same place as you and who has felt many of the same complex feelings.

"But today you guys have made me feel so loved and accepted, and—" tears spring to your eyes, "Sorry, I'm so not collected, I didn't really plan what I was going to say," you apologize quickly.

"It's okay, sweetheart, take your time!" someone a few rows out yells. It has the opposite effect you wanted, and the tears start streaming down your cheeks.

"Thank you, sorry," you say, hastily wiping them from your cheeks. Another cheer has erupted, and that's what gives you the strength to go on. "Anyway, what I wanted to say that today I do feel really proud of my sexuality, which is not how I feel all the time. And that's thanks to you guys, so thank you again for listening to me sing and ramble on and probably bore you to death...

"For this next song—my publicist is going to kill me for this, by the way—I wanted to reimagine a song that I wrote a while ago, for 1989. I haven't played this one in a really long time. And, I actually wrote it about the moment when...the moment when I fell in love with my gorgeous, talented, wonderful wife, Karlie. This is called 'You Are in Love.'"

And that's that. You've said it and there's nothing you can do now. You've wrecked the timeline you spent years working to build, but you're not at all regretful. You suspect many of them suspect much more of the truth about your relationship anyway. As you start to strum the chords, you see Tree knocking back a glass of the strongest alcoholic beverage she could find in such short notice.

Your performance itself is raw. The first time you get to a gendered pronoun, you stumble and almost say "he" just out of habit. As you sing, you let yourself relive the moments that inspired this song and the roadtrip that solidified your feelings, although you didn't confess them until a little later.

When you finish the song, you feel a new sense of calm wash over you. You made the right choice. You feel so relieved you found the courage to get through this for Karlie. If she asked for the moon, you would gladly find a way to bring it down to her.

Your band comes back out for the final songs. As you're about to start Dancing With Our Hands Tied, the teenage girl you were watching earlier makes a mad dash for the barricade. Security takes brisk steps towards her and you feel your heart skip a beat as your mind flashes back to all the nightmares you've had about dying on this stage.

But you needn't have worried. The girl doesn't try to climb over the barricade. Instead, she unwraps herself from the rainbow flag she's been wearing as a cape and extends it out to you. _Oh_. You slide off the stage and take it from her. You squeeze her hand, mouthing a thank you as you run back onstage. Your band waits until you've draped it over yourself to start the acoustic arrangement of the song.

The flag stays with you through Dancing With Our Hands Tied, Change, and New Romantics. And finally, too soon in your opinion, it's time for your final song.

"Thanks again to everyone at the Nashville Pride Center for setting this up, and thanks to everyone who came to hang out with us for the past hour! It's been fun, we should, do this again sometime!" A cheer. "I have one more song for y'all today. But I'm only gonna play it if you promise me you're gonna _dance_." More cheering. "Awesome! Now, if you don't mind, I'd love to bring out someone extra special for this song. Is that alright with you, Nashville?" A chorus of "yes" erupts from the audience. You turn to your right, where you see Karlie seated backstage. "Come on out, baby," you smirk.

Karlie hadn't been privy to the entire setlist, but you made sure to ask beforehand if she would like to come onstage for the last number. Although your wife is confident strutting down a catwalk, stages of this kind are definitely more your thing. So you were absolutely delighted when she agreed.

Karlie walks up the steps on the side of the stage, and waves shyly to the crowd. You walk over to her, grab her hand, and lead her to the front of the stage. There, you wrap the rainbow flag around the both of you and wait for the screams and cheers to wane. "I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Karlie, who is a super-smart, super-hot angel goddess coder woman. But you obviously all know that, and if you haven't you've been living under a rock. Now, we've both experienced our fair share of "haters," if you will," you make air quotes, "And I'm sure you all have experienced something similar. We all know those people who just won't stop making rude comments about how we look or how we dress, or our hobbies, or the people we love, or whatever. And it's totally fine to bask in the anger or sadness or whatever you feel from that. But eventually, there comes a time when it's just funny that they're still spewing the same tired, ridiculous ideas at you. And, when it gets to that point, you just have to _shake it off_."

You know you made the right decision to put "Shake it Off" as your closer when you see how crazy people go during it. You and Karlie do your little goofy dance wrapped in each others' arms as you sing. Everyone in the audience is dancing, even the people who you can tell are definitely not fans of yours are swaying to the beat, shaking their hips, and tapping their feet. The joy is translated so well when you sing that song, and even now, years later, you're not completely tired of performing it.

You keep it going as long as you can, going through the chorus an extra time because you just don't want the moment to end. You band keeps the music going even after you finish, and as you look out at the sea of beautiful, sparkly, rainbow people, you get teary eyed again. Your eyes scan over the crowd, trying desperately to remember every detail. Then they pan over to the woman next to you, with one hand around your waist and the other gripping one side of the rainbow flag.

You shake your head because you sure as hell did not imagine something like this in your future when you were sixteen, or twenty, or even twenty eight. You don't know how you got so _lucky_.

Karlie seems to be feeling something similar, because she's beaming at you with a similar expression and tears welling up in her eyes. She leans her forehead against yours. You can tell she wants to kiss you, but she's letting you make the call. And because you feel so loved and accepted and _safe_ on this stage, you connect your lips to hers.

There's a split second of panic, because it's still so deeply ingrained in you that your relationships are not for the public eye; all affection is to be kept indoors and out of sight. Your kiss garners a series of whoops and wolf whistles from the crowd, and you both pull away blushing.

"Thank you so much for an amazing show, Nashville!" you say. "Happy pride!"

Then you and Karlie walk off stage, hand in hand. You're quickly clobbered in a giant group hug from your band. That lasts for a few minutes, as the full gravity of what you just did begins to sink in. You're interrupted by Tree, who walks over with another drink in hand.

You cringe. "How bad did I mess up?"

Tree pulls you into a hug and chuckles. "You just destroyed the entire timeline of your relationship with Karlie. No big deal." She steps back and looks you in the eye. "Don't worry about it right now. Today is about you, honey. We'll deal with it later. In case you've forgotten, cleaning up your PR messes is literally my job."

You laugh and steal a quick sip from her cup. She may work for you, but you do consider Tree to be one of your good friends.

"Seriously, don't worry about it," she reassures you. "I've already got a plan in place if you want to put out a statement. You did say you wrote the song when you fell in love with Karlie, but you didn't mention actually being with her at the time. We could play that angle if you want, or we could just not say anything."

"I'll think about it," you tell her. Then, you put the issue in the back of your mind. She's right: today is about you and your love for Karlie.

She comes up next to you now, and gives you another hug, a proper one this time. Your head settles on the familiar spot on her chest, and you listen to her heartbeat as she congratulates you and tells you how proud she is. "Thanks for playing 'You Are in Love,' by the way," she says. "But next time, give us some warning. Tree almost had a heart attack over here."

You laugh. "Did you see that girl who gave me the flag? She was like sixteen, maybe? She was so cute! And she knew all the songs! I don't know how, she's literally a baby."

Karlie rolls her eyes. "When will you stop being surprised that people actually know the words to your songs that aren't from 1989 or All too Well?"

"Never," you say honestly. "Hey, she's probably still there. Maybe we should give this back to her?"

"Okay," Karlie says. "Thank god you have a super tall wife with a talent for spotting people in crowds."

"Hey! I'm like 2 inches shorter than you!"

"Taylor, baby, you're 5'10" and I think its time you admitted that to yourself."

"5'11"" you say, feigning a pout.

Karlie sighs. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

You do manage to find the girl (Maise is her name, and her girlfriend is Sam). You have an excellent conversation and learn that her mom used to be a huge fan when she was younger, and that your coming out helped her be more accepting and understanding when her daughter did, too. That makes your heart soar in pride and happiness, and you cry a little bit more.

The rest of the day is spent chanting and dancing and drinking (non-alcoholic drinks for Karlie, of course) enough so your koala status increases by 100%. You treat your band to a late dinner at In-and-Out, and collapse into bed after midnight, thoroughly exhausted and overwhelmed by the day's events.

"Today was such a good day," Karlie murmurs, sliding into bed and assuming her usual role as big spoon.

"Yeah," you say, "Thank you for pushing me to go."

"Of course." There's a beat, and you think she's fallen asleep. But then she says, "I can't wait to go back next year. Maybe we can even take the baby."

You don't know if you'll feel comfortable doing that, but you let yourself entertain the idea. For tonight, you pretend you and Karlie are just a normal couple expecting their first child. Because you are just a normal couple, and today has just solidified that. Today, you felt mostly right at home surrounded by other queer people who have graciously accepted you as one of their own.

Tonight, you can say with certainty that you're _proud_ to be a lesbian, _proud_ of who you are. And maybe that feeling is here to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who read the whole thing of this 4k word monstrosity, I commend you! Here's an imaginary cookie! I actually started this one shot in July, but its taken me 2 months and sporadic writing of it to get it where I want it to be. This is much longer than what I usually write, but I just kept wanting to explore more about Taylor's future career and coming out story as I was writing this. I hope it didn't bore you to death!
> 
> ~Vi
> 
> P.S. My next fanfic endeavor will be the next chapter of Quiet, so you can look forward to that once I stop procrastinating and decide where I want that story to go :)


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